Dragon's Knight, page 14
She shrugged. “The well is there, my lord. You may partake of it as you like.”
The words were not precisely welcoming, but Aislynn could tell that the elderly dame was pleased at his making the request when he could indeed take what he liked without doing so. Her assessment was enhanced by the fact the good dame herself reached out and took the metal ladle that hung from a hook at the side of the well and handed it to him.
Jarrod bowed. “You have my thanks.” He then raised the bucket and dipped a ladleful.
To Aislynn’s surprise, he handed it to her. Casting him a grateful look, she raised it to her dry lips. The water was sweet and cool and tasted better than anything before in her life. The exertions of the day had been draining.
Not until it was completely drained did she hand the ladle back to Jarrod. He dipped it again and followed her example.
The old woman raised her gray brows high. “Thirsty, aren’t ye?”
Jarrod nodded. “It’s quite a climb getting here.”
She shrugged, her keen gaze assessing on his. “One needs have good reason to make the journey, then. Aye, my lord?”
He did not look away. “That is the truth of it.”
She looked to Aislynn, who also met her gaze without wavering as she said, “Would you care to be tellin’ me your reason then?”
“We are looking for my brother,” Aislynn answered, totally disregarding their agreement that Jarrod should speak for them. She simply could not hold it in.
“This would be a strange place to look for the brother of a noblewoman. There is nothing hereabouts to interest such a one.”
Jarrod cast her a frowning glance and Aislynn held her tongue. He said, “That is our own assessment, dear lady. Yet we have come here, even on the poorest of clues that he might indeed be here.”
“You are that desperate to find this man?”
He took a deep breath, letting the truth of his concern shine in his black eyes. “Aye, we are. He disappeared from his home with little explanation and we have been searching for him for some time. The fact that he is known to have asked the whereabouts of your village is all we have been able to learn of him or where he might have gone.”
As the woman opened her mouth to reply, a harsh male voice interrupted, “What are you about, Mother?”
Aislynn swung around to see a decidedly handsome young man, with thick dark brown hair and a pair of wary green eyes. He grimaced as he shook his head at the woman he had called mother.
The old woman looked down. “These folk are looking for someone. A man. The lady says he is her brother.”
Aislynn moved closer, her gaze on the newcomer. “Aye, my brother has been missing for weeks and we have come in search of him. We have reason to believe that he may have come to Ashcroft. His name is Christian Greatham of Bransbury.”
The young man shook his head, and his gaze slid from hers to his mother’s. “I am sure you told them that we have seen no one who could be the brother of a noblewoman.”
She looked down at her hands. “I was about to do that very thing, Sean.”
Jarrod moved to stand beside Aislynn, who could not help wondering if the older woman was speaking true. Jarrod clearly felt the same, for he said, “Are you very sure of this?”
The man named Sean nodded, looking first Aislynn then Jarrod directly in the eyes. “Most sure, my lord. Ashcroft is a very small village and all would ken if there had been a stranger about.”
Aislynn could barely contain her disappointment. Only now did she realize how desperately she had believed that Christian would be here in spite of their having so little indication that he was.
Sean interrupted her thoughts, saying, “Mother, ’twill be dark soon. I will help you carry the water back to the cottage.” He reached out to take her bucket in hand.
Jarrod spoke up before they could leave. “Is there, by chance, somewhere we might gain lodging for the night? I would be happy to pay.”
Aislynn was surprised at this request. Surely there was no reason to remain here. Jarrod’s next comment explained his reasoning. “The hour grows late and I wouldst not ask this lady to traverse those cliffs in the dark.”
The young man cast an assessing gaze over him. “All the lodging you might find here about would be most humble.”
Jarrod shrugged, ignoring his lack of goodwill. “That matters not. We would be happy to make our bed anywhere out of the damp.”
Sean shrugged. “I know of nothing that would suit.”
The old woman frowned at him, “There is no need for such a lack of hospitality, Sean. We can offer a dry bed.” She then bowed to Aislynn, though her son glowered unpleasantly. “If you truly have no care, my lady, you are welcome to sleep in the loft above the animals.”
Aislynn bowed in return. “I thank you for your kindness, good lady. I am so tired that I might be able to lie down and sleep upon the hard ground. A bed of soft hay will seem as heaven.”
Her son scowled blackly but made no further demure.
The woman said, “I am Hagar. Sean is my only child. If you will come this way with us, then I will see that you get a warm meal in your bellies before bed as well.”
Aislynn and Jarrod fell into step behind mother and son. Aislynn was not blind to the unhappy looks the young man cast toward his mother in the growing gloom as they made their way to a cottage some distance along the narrow road from the village.
The meal the kind woman set forth was simple, a sort of stew with mutton and turnips. But as Aislynn was tired, so was she hungry. No food had ever tasted better to her, including the dark bread that the elderly woman served with it on the well-scrubbed plank table in her small but scrupulously clean cottage.
She saw that Jarrod too seemed to be hungry, for he ate with some enthusiasm. He appeared to have much interest in their surroundings. He studied the small cottage, taking in the sparse furnishings and dirt floor, as well as the fact the sleeping quarters lay in an open loft above the one chamber that served as main chamber and kitchen. Jarrod also watched the young man, who applied himself to his own food while obviously feigning disinterest in them.
Although Sean had taken his own trencher close to the fire, turning his back to them, the intent tilt of his head showed that his attention was tuned to their every word. Aislynn also noted the way he looked toward them each time he turned his head to take a bite from his bowl.
When the meal was finished, Jarrod stood. “We thank you, good lady. And now if you will show us to our sleeping quarters we will leave you and your son to your peace.”
As if she too was aware of her son’s displeasure, the older woman made no demure. She picked up a tallow candle and led them into another structure, which rested against the side of the cottage but could not be entered from inside the main dwelling.
The interior was dim and smelled of fragrant hay and warm bodies. The soft bleat of a sheep told Aislynn the nature of the occupants before their hostess’s circle of light fell upon them. She moved past the sheep to a ladder. They followed her up it, Aislynn in the lead.
When she reached the top, Aislynn scurried aside to allow Jarrod access to the low but sturdy loft. Hagar was already pulling the piled hay into some semblance of a bed.
Jarrod stopped her. “Pray, do not trouble yourself further, good woman. You have done more than enough.”
She turned and looked at them, her gaze widening with seeming understanding. Quickly she looked away and nodded. “I will leave you a light.” Hagar reached into a pocket of her gown and removed another of the tallow candles. She lit it and handed it over to Jarrod. With the same deftness, she moved to the ladder and down. It was no more than moments before she had left the shed, closing the door firmly behind her.
Aislynn took a deep breath, realizing that the woman thought…that she imagined they wished to be alone. She flushed, not daring to look directly at Jarrod.
Hurriedly she swung around and began to gather some of the sweet-smelling hay into a bed for herself. Jarrod was more than welcome to the one the other woman had started.
To cover her confusion, she said, “I suppose we will be leaving at first light.”
Jarrod’s reply halted her. “Perhaps not.”
She frowned, trying to gain some hint of his thoughts from his face, which was unreadable in the flickering candlelight. “But why? Christian is not here. Has never been here.” Again she felt a tug of sorrow, knowing that they now had no clue as to where they might find him.
Once more Jarrod surprised her. “Mayhap.”
She sat down, making no effort to hide her confusion. “What are you saying?”
“I am saying I believe the son is hiding something.”
She shook her head. “And why would he tell us a falsehood?”
Jarrod raked a hand through his black hair. “That I do not know. I only know that something is not right here, and I mean to get to the bottom of it on the chance that Christian is involved in some way.”
She rubbed her brow, feeling her stomach churn. “If this is true, and Sean is hiding something about my brother, then I have very likely given us away too soon by telling the old woman why we are come.”
Jarrod sighed. “Pray do not hold yourself to account for that. Your words did not hinder us. I do in fact believe the old woman was about to…”
He struck his palm with his fist in frustration. “Christ’s blood, I do believe she did mean to tell us something. That is why Sean interrupted her.”
He looked at Aislynn with approval. “And the reason Hagar wanted to speak was the truth you had told of your sadness and worry. Your honesty moved her to offer the truth. Whatever it might be.”
Aislynn was surprised at Jarrod’s approval. Even though they had agreed on a truce for the sake of locating her brother, she had not thought it would extend so far. In fact, she had expected him to be angry with her for speaking when she had agreed not to. She was warmed at the thought that they might still find her brother here. Then she sighed. “What if we are wrong? What if there is nothing to hide and he is but a surly young man?”
“Then we shall be on our way with no more than a few hours lost, for I do mean to get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible.”
Aislynn was overcome with feelings of gratitude and yearning. Despite the fact that he did not want her, Jarrod was a good man, a wonderful man. She spoke from the depths of her heart. “Thank you, Jarrod. I…you’ll never know how much this means to me, how indebted I am to you for all you have done and continue to do.”
From where she sat, some feet from him, she felt Jarrod stiffen, his voice as taut as the string of a bow. “You may keep your indebtedness. As I have told you many times, I do this because I care for your brother.”
The fact that he did not extend that care to her was not lost on Aislynn, nor that their truce had only been temporary. Could this cool and distant stranger be the same man who had touched her, kissed her with such passionate abandon? It did not seem possible.
She pushed the misery that rose up inside her to the depth of her being, nodding sharply, forcing herself to meet that unemotional gaze. “Very well then.”
There was no other reply she could make.
He looked away. “You’d best get some sleep. It has been a trying day and tomorrow promises to be another.”
Quickly she removed her cloak and spread it over the bed of hay. Not waiting for Jarrod, she lay down and pulled the excess over her. In the heavy silence she listened as he attended to his own bed. She then gave a silent sigh as he extinguished the candle and allowed her the haven of darkness in which to nurse her battered emotions.
Chapter Ten
When Aislynn woke the next morning Jarrod was already gone. But nearly as disturbing as his presence would have been was the fact that he had laid his own cape over her as she slept.
A pleasurable warmth spread through her body. Almost as if he had touched her.
Hurriedly she rose, and fighting an urge to toss the heavy garment aside, she folded it carefully and placed it on his bed of hay.
She wondered how she could possibly have slept through his leaving and why he should have let her do so. He did not know that she had lain awake long after his breathing had become even and deep, troubled by the physical intimacy of them sharing this small space, no matter how angry with him she was. He could not know of the images that had risen up to torment both her mind and body.
But he should have known that she would want to be with him while he sought out any sign that Christian had been in Ashcroft. Perhaps he had not been gone long.
Hurriedly Aislynn scrambled down from the loft and out of the shelter. The sheep were no longer in occupation and this told her that Jarrod was not the only one up and about. Not wanting to run into her hostess at the moment, Aislynn skirted the front of the cottage and made her way toward the tiny hamlet.
She walked quickly, barely noting the condition of the road, nor the steely-gray of the sky, which hovered low overhead, until she stepped into a puddle. Gasping, her shoes instantly soaked through, Aislynn realized that it had rained hard during the night.
Determinedly Aislynn set her mind to paying attention to where she trod as she made her way down the rutted laneway. It was riddled with murky puddles and she had no desire to get her leather-shod feet any wetter than they already were.
So occupied was she in this that Aislynn was nearly upon the two, who stood near the well where she and Jarrod had first met Hagar, before she noted them. It was a woman and a child. She cast a quick glance over the woman as she lowered her bucket into the well and the little one, who appeared to be a girl of no more than four.
Although Aislynn felt the woman watching her, she did so covertly as she went about her task. The child was much more direct, as children are, and stared at Aislynn with wide brown eyes.
Aislynn smiled at her and the child took a step toward her mother. Aislynn was not offended by this. She knew that little ones could be shy with strangers. She had a fondness for children and looked forward to the day when she would have her own.
When this thought brought a quite unwelcome image of the man who so plagued her, Aislynn drew herself up sharply.
Purposefully she spoke to the woman beside the well. “Good morrow.”
The woman swung around to face her directly and Aislynn noted that she was heavy with advancing pregnancy. Her gaze took in Aislynn’s long velvet cape. She bowed respectfully. “My lady.”
She turned back to raise the bucket, which was now obviously much heavier filled with water.
Without thinking, Aislynn stepped forward. “Please, let me help you.” She reached out to turn the hook on the opposite side of the well.
The woman grew still, looking at her in surprise. “There is no need…”
Aislynn smiled and said, “Nonetheless I will.” She was quite used to doing this sort of activity at Bransbury.
The woman watched her for a moment, then nodded. They began to turn the winch in unison, neither speaking.
When the bucket reached the top, Aislynn lifted it from the hook before the other woman could do so. Aislynn then turned to watch the village woman as she lifted the hook that attached it to one end of the harness she would carry across her shoulders. At the other end was another full bucket. As she worked, the woman glanced over at the child, a frown creasing her brow.
Following her gaze, Aislynn saw that the little girl had positioned a rock so that she could lean up over the edge of the well as she dropped bits of something from her chubby fingers into the water below. The mother spoke firmly. “Watch now, Fi, that ye don’t get too close.”
The child jumped down and stepped back from the edge of the well, her cheeks pink with chagrin. Aislynn marveled at the mother’s ability to pay such close attention to the child while she worked.
The young woman moved to attach the second bucket to her harness. She then stood and bowed. “Ye have my thanks, my lady.”
Aislynn nodded. “I receive them most happily.”
She was indeed happy to have something to do other than think of her own difficulties, if only for a moment. But now that the task was completed, she found herself wondering if the young mother might have some knowledge that could help her determine if her brother had been here.
Aislynn folded her hands over her midriff. “If you do not mind, good lady, there is something of import that I would ask you.”
The young mother stood straight, watching her closely. “I know that ye have come to Ashcroft looking for your brother.” She looked down at the ground. “Your assistance here changes nothing. I can tell ye naught of what ye seek, my lady.”
Aislynn was not oblivious to the fact that the woman did not look at her as she spoke, and she felt herself frown with chagrin. “I did not…” She stopped herself. Although she had not offered to help for the express purpose of gaining information about her brother, she could not pretend that she was not interested in learning anything she could. She shrugged. “I sought no exchange of service. I thank you for being straightforward. To discover that you know nothing is to gain information.” Aislynn bowed with civility.
The other woman smiled tentatively, “I’ll be about my work then.” She reached down to raise the harness up to her shoulders. As she did, a soft squeal issued from behind them.
Aislynn and the other woman looked toward the sound, just in time to see a flash of color as the child disappeared down the well, another shrill screech issuing from her. That scream was loud with terror as was the one that erupted from her mother in the same instant.
Aislynn ran to look down the narrow chasm. She could see nothing, but the sound of hysterical sobbing and thrashing about in the water below was heart-rendingly audible.
Acting on pure instinct, Aislynn spun the rope from its rest, sending it back into the well. She called down. “Take hold of the rope.”
The sounds of terror did not abate. Again Aislynn called down, this time more loudly, “Take the rope.”
